THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


POEMS 


OF 


LOVE    AND    FREEDOM 


BY 


FRANK  TOBEYWINSLOW 


Copyright  1919 
By  Frank  Tobey  Winslow. 


TS 
354-5 


To  my  friends,  HENRY  M.  PIERCE  and  HARRIS  F. 
WILLIAMS,   each   learned   in   law   and   literature,    I 

respectfully  dedicate  this  volume. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


626048 


PREFACE. 

The  foreword  to  a  small  collection  of  verses  must  needs 
be  short,  else  the  cart  will  come  before  the  horse,  and  be 
larger;  so  in  making  this,  my  debut  in  the  society  of  my 
readers,  I  should  not  do  much  more  than  make  a  bow,  say 
a  very  few  words,  and  retire. 

I  have  little  to  say  that  has  not  already  been  said.  I 
believe  that  while  poetry  should  always  express  the  idea, 
it  should  never  sacrifice  rhyme  or  rhythm,  for  the  idea's 
sake.  Thought  is  its  father  and  music  its  mother,  and  with- 
out this  union,  the  issue  is  illegitimate. 

In  some  of  the  verses  which  follow,  there  may  be  a 
little  of  music,  and  in  many,  the  expressions  of  the  in- 
dividual and  not  of  the  multitude,  and  yet  if  these  ex- 
pressions have  come  out  of  the  heart  of  one  who  has 
experienced  the  heights  and  depths  of  feeling,  they  may  be 
of  some  value  to  the  reading  public. 

To  feel  deeply  is  to  live  fully,  and  to  sing  of  what  we 
see  and  feel  and  think,  is,  I  believe,  in  most  cases,  better 
than  to  argue  it  out  in  lurid  declamation  or  cold  prose.  If 
I  shall  have  lightened  one  heavy  heart,  or  let  the  warm, 
bright  sun  into  the  dark  chambers  of  the  soul  of  one  man 
or  woman,  I  feel  I  shall  not  have  written  in  vain. 

FRANK  TOBEY  WINSLOW. 


Sweet  Marie. 


SWEET  MARIE. 


Thy  bright  blue  eyes  entrancing 
With  wit  and  mischief  dancing, 

Sweet  Marie, 

Their  hypnotic  beams  enthrall  me 
And  completely  do  install  me, 
Thy  champion  and  thy  knight, 
Till  I'm  sure  I'm  only  right, 

If  for  thee ! 


Tell  me,  thou  happy  fairy, 
Why  thou'rt  so  gay  and  airy, 

Gay  Marie? 

Tell  me  if  thou  hast  trouble 
And  I'll  prick  it  like  a  bubble 
That  now  floats  in  the  air, 
And  now  it  is  not  there, 

And  thou'rt  free. 


When  you  seek  your  couch  at  eve, 
Pray  hear  me  and  believe, 

Kind  Marie, 

That  for  you  I'd  risk  my  all, 
For  you  I'd  fight  and  fall, 
And,  pierced  by  Cupid's  dart, 
Pour  out  the  life-blood  of  my  heart, 

All  for  thee! 

If  another  thou  dost  love, 
If  he  thy  heart  doth  move, 

Sweet  Marie, 

Ah,  then  I  wish  you  well, 
"Every  daisy  in  the  dell" 
Will  nod  its  dainty  head 
To  approve  of  him  instead 

Of  poor  me! 


The  House  of  Cousin  Nettie. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  COUSIN  NETTIE. 


From  the  Island  of  Manhattan, 

From  the  acres  of  Chicago, 

From  the  far-off  land  of  Dixie, 

From  the  happy  homes  about  us, 

Come  the  kinfolk,  full  of  gladness, 

To  the  house  of  Cousin  Nettie 

To  renew  association 

To  meet  with  hearty  handclasp 

The  friends  and  kin  so  many 

In  this  land  of  life  and  laughter 

Far  removed  from  haunts  of  commerce 

Here  in  this  quiet  Northland. 

In  this  life  of  toil  and  duty 

'Tis  good  to  save  a  moment 

In  the  fleeting  years  that  pass  us 

For  such  a  joyous  union 

As  the  one  that  is  before  us. 

Here  we  sink  our  vain  ambition 

And  our  striving  with  each  other, 

And  think  only  of  the  instant 

Fraught  with  fine  and  friendly  feeling; 

For  when  old  and  young  together 

Meet  and  join  in  happy  converse 

Draw  from  the  past  its  treasure 

From  the  present  its  happy  outlook; 

Shoot  and  parry  shafts  of  humor 

Shake  their  sides  with  hearty  laughter 

This  is  life  and  this  is  living— 

And  this  is  what  we  came  for. 

To  you  then,  Cousin  Nettie, 

We  dedicate  this  meeting, 

Feeling  surely  that  its  spirit 

Will  preside  a  pleasant  memory 

O'er  the  happy  life  before  you; 

Trusting  that  its  even  tenor 

And  this  clean  and  well  kept  mansion 

May  tomorrow  be  unruffled 


The  House  of  Cousin  Nettie. 


As  the  feathers  of  a  gosling 
Or  the  waters  of  a  mill  pond. 
But  now,  honest,  we  can  profit 
By  your  life  so  long  and  peaceful, 
And  from  it  draw  one  lesson, 
The  lesson  for  the  future, 
The  lesson  for  the  peoples, 
The  lesson  of  your  lifetime— 
'Tis  that  of  Truth  and  Justice. 
Now  farewell,  my  Hiawatha, 
With  thy  convenient  metre, 
Which  I  have  lamely  copied ; 
Back  to  the  Ojibways ! 
Back  to  the  laughing  water ! 
Let  us  hope  to  meet  in  heaven, 
If  we  all  do  meet  hereafter, 
And  that  the  "many  mansions" 
Prepared  for  "those  annointed" 
May  be  as  bright  and  happy 
As  the  house  of  Cousin  Nettie! 

Watertown,  N.  Y.  Sept.  9,  1905. 


10  On  the  Death  of  Theodore  Roosevelt. 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 
THEODORE  ROOSEVELT. 

Gone  from  us  who  live 

To  join  the  Dead— He 

Whose  name  was  matchless  in  the  world 

Because  of  Knowledge,  Courage  and  Power  to  do 

Things  of  moment  for  Mankind; 

He  who  wrought  for  all  Humanity, 

Leading  all  in  thought  and  act 

From  craven  cowardice  up  to  where 

They,  too,  like  him,  were  fighters  for  the  Right. 

Oh,  Roosevelt,  how  we  shall  miss  thee, 

Thy  trenchant  peri  and  clear-toned  voice 

Proclaiming  human  destiny! 

There  is  none  other  to  fill  thy  place 

To  bespeak  the  true  America. 

Only,  as  we,  each  one,  repeat  thy  clarion  cry 

For  Justice  and  Freedom  to  mankind, 

Can  we  progress  without  thee. 

This  is  our  duty  to  posterity, 

Since  thy  voice  and  hand  are  still  in  death 

Else  thou  hast  lived  and  wrought  in  vain. 

Unless  we,  too,  lead  the  strenuous  life 

And  fight,  as  thou  hast  fought  for  Freedom  and  for  Truth, 

Our  world  will  be  a  chaos 

Of  conflicting  lusts  for  power  and  place 

Destroying  all  ideals  of  the  race, 

And  next,  the  race  itself. 

Let  us  then,  be  brave  like  thee 

And  dare  to  tell  to  all  on  earth 

The  truth  about  themselves  in  rugged  phrase, 

Smiting,  like  thee,  their  consciences, 

So  that,  though  thou  sleepest  forever  still, 

Thy  virile  voice  and  pen 

Shall  speak  through  us 

Still  left  with  life 

The  same  bold  thoughts  for  the  weal  of  man 

Thou  spake  so  fearlessly! 

Thou  would  'st  have  it  so.  January  8,  1919. 


Those  Words  of  Ire. 


11 


THOSE  WORDS  OF  IRE. 


Those  words  of  ire,  8 

So  hasty  spoken 
Of  Love's  hot  fire, 
Were  but  the  token. 

For  love,  you  know,  9 

Is  always  jealous; 
If  'twere  not  so; 
He'd  not  be  zealous. 

The  hypocrite  10 

Is  smooth  as  oil 
He  has  no  fit, 
He  does  not  boil, 

Because  deceit  11 

Becomes  him  better; 
He  fears  defeat 
To  snap  the  fetter. 

He  does  not  love;  12 

He  cannot  feel 
The  Power  above 
The  heart's  appeal. 

He  will  not  fight  13 

For  Love  or  Name-. 
He  has  no  might 
To  carve  his  fame. 


He's  said  his  worst; 
He  does  not  hide 
His  anger 's  burst ; 
He  has  not  lied. 

Though  what  he  shouts 
He  does  not  mean; 
There  are  no  doubts 
His  Love  is  keen. 

And  now  he  kneels 
And  begs  your  grace— 
A  look  he  steals 
Of  your  dear  face. 

Oh,  smile  again, 
My  Sweet  Marie, 
Do  not  disdain 
To  think  of  me ! 

So  hard  I'll  try 
To  never  pain  you; 
The  world  I'll  buy 
If  thus  I'll  gain  you. 

Those  words  of  ire 
So  hasty  spoken 
Of  Love's  hot  fire, 
Were  but  the  token! 


Far  better  him, 
Though  hot  and  mad, 
Who  speaks  with  vim, 
Words  that  are  bad. 


12  Thoughts  at  Dusk. 


THOUGHTS  AT  DUSK. 


1  I  sit  alone  in  the  gloaming, 

My  thoughts  are  sad  and  drear; 
Back  into  the  Past  they're  roaming, 
That  Past  which  was  full  of  cheer. 

2  Across  my  mind  come  the  flashes 
Of  the  sunshine  of  long  ago; 
For  an  instant  its  radiance  dashes 
Aside  the  memory  of  woe. 

3  And  then  again  comes  the  sadness 
Weighting  my  heart  like  lead, 

A  truce  forever  to  gladness, 

Ah,  me!     How  good  to  be  dead! 

4  For  where  is  the  hope  of  the  morrow 
When  Love  is  fickle  and  cold, 
When  the  heart  is  humble  in  sorrow, 
When  once  it  was  joyous  and  bold? 

5  Then  my  spirit  leapt  up  in  pleasure 
To  do  Love's  terrible  tasks; 

Then  Joy  was  heaped  in  full  measure, 
More  Joy  than  any  man  asks. 

6  Then  the  hours  slipped  by,  all  forgotten, 
In  the  glorious  lethe  of  Love, 

Then  rapturous  thoughts  were  begotten 
With  the  fire  that  comes  from  above! 

7  Then  the  night  was  day  in  its  splendor, 
For  all  darkness  was  gone  from  the  earth ; 
Then  Love  was  the  valiant  defender 

Of  Happiness,  Joy  and  Mirth. 


Thoughts  at  Dusk.  13 


8  But  now  Love  is  cold  and  forbidding; 
Gone  is  the  thrill  of  its  power! 

Oh,  where  is  the  pleasure  of  living 
In  this  dark  and  miserable  hour? 

9  Sunk  are  my  hopes  and  ambition; 
Blasted  the  best  aims  of  life! 
Never  will  Joy  have  fruition, 
Never  will  cease  the  strife 

10  Of  the  irretrievable  present 

With  the  fading  and  glorious  past, 

Of  the  thoughts  which  were  lovely  and  pleasant 

With  the  thoughts  which  are  to  last! 

11  Into  my  grave  I  will  falter, 

A  wretch  whose  life  has  been  lost ! 

Better  choked  in  the  throat  with  the  halter, 

Much  less  happiness  cost! 

12  Go  on,  bright  one,  in  your  glory, 
Obscuring  the  gloom  with  your  light! 
Yet  sometimes  think  of  the  story 

Of  the  one  you  plunged  into  night. 


14  My  Heaven. 


MY  HEAVEN, 


Oh  what  can  compare  with  the  thrill  of  true  love, 
As  it  tingles  so  full  through  the  veins? 

They  may  prattle  to  me  of  the  Heaven  above 
My  Heaven  that  legend  disdains. 

The  Heaven  for  me  is  the  bright  kindling  eye 
That  outspeaks  the  pure  soul  within 

Let  others  gain  Heaven  when  they  pine  and  die, 
I'd  lose  theirs,  mine  but  to  win. 

What  Heaven  is  there  like  the  wine  of  the  kiss 
That  love  steals  from  the  radiant  cheek 

What  rapture  is  there  like  the  genuine  bliss 
When  Love  pretends  to  a  pique 

And  draws  back  so  cunning  and  shy 
From  the  fire  of  the  roguish  lad's  darts 

And  pretends  all  further  assaults  to  defy 
In  this  glorious  battle  of  hearts? 

Yet,  let  the  poor  wight  start  up  to  go, 

In  love  there's  now  no  pretense 
The  battle's  o'er  and  vanquished  the  foe 

To  that  nameless  feeling  intense. 

Now  heart  to  heart  they  eagerly  press 
And  drink  from  each  other  the  wine 

Of  the  lips  and  the  eye,  the  throbbing  caress, 
Sweeter  ne'er  came  from  the  vine. 

One  moment  they  stand  in  a  tremor  of  joy, 
The  next  they  may  part  for  all  time; 

But  that  moment  is  gold  all  free  from  alloy 
That  moment  is  Heaven  sublime. 


My  Heaven.  15 

8  Of  such  I  would  my  Heaven  on  earth 

Be  composed  in  plenteous  part, 
Away  with  the  grinning  folly  of  mirth, 
Give  me  the  thought  of  the  Heart! 

9  That  soul  thrilling  moment,  dear  one,  came  to  me 

Last  night  ere  I'd  left  your  side 
In  sooth  'twas  then  you  set  my  soul  free, 
'Twas  then  my  apathy  died. 

10  O  may  that  Heaven  came  oft  to  us  both 

To  set  us  free  on  the  wing 
A  truce  to  the  Heaven  of  life-sapping  sloth, 
The  glove  to  its  champions  I  fling. 

11  The  Heaven  for  me  is  the  bright  kindling  eye, 

That  outspeaks  the  pure  soul  within, 
Let  others  gain  Heaven  when  they  pine  and  die, 
I  'd  lose  theirs,  mine  but  to  win ! 


16  The  Dance. 

THE  DANCE. 


No  repining 

Floor  a-shining 

Music's  starting 

Now  we're  darting 

Here  and  there, 

Everywhere, 

Keeping  time 

In  a  rhyme; 

Feet  a-flying, 

Bodies  swaying, 

Sorrow  dying, 

All  a-playing 

In  the  everlasting  maze, 

In  the  iridescent  blaze 

Of  the  dance 

In  the  palpitating  whirl, 

In  the  vortex  of  the  swirl 

Of  the  dance! 

Holding  tight, 

Guiding  right 

Maidens  fair 

Beauties  rare, 

Strength  a-wielding, 

Muscles  yielding, 

Coming,  going; 

Now  so  swiftly. 

Now  so  slowly, 

Till  the  groaning  of  the  floor 

Moves  us  to  waltz  no  more 

And  sit  out  the  last  encore 

In  the  everlasting  maze, 

In  the  iridescent  blaze 

Of  the  dance; 

In  the  palpitating  whirl, 

In  the  vortex  of  the  swirl 

Of  the  dance ! 


The  Dance.  17 

Eyes  a  blazing, 

Love-thoughts  raising, 

Warm  hands  clasping, 

Voices  gasping, 

Voices  whispering 

Tales  of  passion 

Till  the  music  ceases  playing 

And  the  morning  light  comes  straying 

Now  so  faintly, 

Now  so  clearly, 

Through  the  shutters  and  the  door 

And  the  town's  slow-rising  roar 

Tells  us  to  play  no  more 

In  the  everlasting  maze, 

In  the  iridescent  blaze 

Of  the  dance, 

In  the  palpitating  whirl, 

In  the  vortex  of  the  swirl 

Of  the  dance! 

Dawn  a-breaking 

Limbs  a-quaking, 

Duties  fearing, 

Day  appearing — 

Care  receding, 

Joy  a-speeding 

As  we  work, 

No  duties  shirk, 

As  we're  thinking,  thinking,  thinking, 

Of  the  glories  of  the  night 

With  pleasure  so  bedight 

Turning  darkness  into  light 

In  the  everlasting  maze, 

In  the  iridescent  blaze 

Of  the  dance, 

In  the  palpitating  whirl, 

In  the  vortex  of  the  swirl 

Of  the  Dance ! 

Chicago,  December  2,  1912. 


18  The  Capture  of  the  Doc. 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  DOC. 


The  Doc,  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he, 

I'm  tired  of  single  life, 
I'm  going  to  hunt  around  and  see 

If  I  can  find  a  wife. 

Now  Doc  was  awful  hard  to  please, 

He'd  had  so  many  chances; 
He  just  did  love  the  girls  to  tease, 

And  smite  them  with  his  glances. 

They  flocked  around  him  thick  and  fast, 

These  maidens  of  all  ages, 
Those  guileless,  and  those  with  a  past 

With  its  many  open  pages. 

But  Doc,  he  was  a  wary  cuss, 

He  vowed  no  one  could  catch  him; 

If  you  desired  to  raise  a  fuss 
You  only  had  to  fetch  him 

Right  up  near  a  blooming  lass 
Who  had  a  winning  manner, 

The  Doc'd  simply  let  her  pass, 
The  Doc  was  from  Urbana. 

He  knew  a  blessed  thing  or  two 

About  the  wiles  and  graces 
Of  girlies  vowing  to  be  true 

With  honest  smiles  and  faces. 

So  Doc,  he  gave  a  stony  stare 
To  all  these  forward  hussies; 

'Tis  two  it  takes  to  make  a  pair 
And  two  to  make  all  fusses. 


The  Capture  of  the  Doc.  19 

8  So  me  to  be  a  single  man, 

The  Doc,  he  bravely  said ; 
So  catch  me,  woman,  if  you  can, 
You'll  only  catch  me  dead. 

9  Now,  Kit  appeared  upon  the  stage, 

And  smiled  and  won  her  way 
Right  through  the  Doc's  pretense  of  rage, 
And  Kit,  she  came  to  stay. 

10  She  knew  the  Doc  from  childhood  up, 

And  loved  him  all  the  while; 
To  Doc  and  Kit  we  drain  the  cup, 
They  both  have  got  some  style. 

11  The  Doc,  he  was  a  willing  slave 

To  Katherine's  love  and  look; 
He  thought  he'd  be  so  awful  brave 
And  dodge  again  the  hook: 

12  But  Kit,  she  took  the  hook,  you  know, 

And  with  it  hooked  the  Doc; 
You  all  can  see  that  this  is  so, 
They're  anchored  to  a  rock. 

13  Now  Kit,  it's  up  to  you,  my  dear 

To  treat  the  Doc  so  fine, 
That  you  can  read  your  title  clear 
To  Doc's  far  western  mine. 

14  And  Doc,  it's  up  to  you  to  give 

To  Kit  for  her  affection, 
So  that  both  of  you  may  live 
In  mutual  predilection, 

15  A  goodly  share  of  love  and  gold, 

Yet  not  too  much  you  know; 
For  without  gold,  love  soon  grows  cold, 
The  lawyers  tell  us  so. 

16  So  here's  a  glass  to  Doc  and  Kit, 

A  long  and  happy  life; 
On  Kit  may  sorrow  never  sit, 
Nor  on  Doc  a  heavy  wife. 


20  A  lone. 


ALONE. 


1  Alone,  alone,  alone;  Love  is  dying,  Love  is  dead; 
Away  with  sighing;  away  with  dread! 

A  stone,  a  stone,  a  stone  they  give  me 
When  I  cry  for  bread! 

2  Alone,  alone,  alone !    My  heart  cries  in  despair ! 
Away  with  high  thoughts!    Away  with  prayer! 

A  bone,  a  bone,  a  bone,  they  leave  me, 
And  I  sit  and  stare! 


NIGHT  AND  MORNING. 

Think  not  that  my  love  is  cold 

Because  it's  sad  and  pensive; 
Tis  when  rash  Cupid  is  too  bold, 

Tis  then  he's  most  offensive. 

Because  I  do  not  fill  your  ears 

With  empty  repetition 
Of  Love's  bright  hopes  and  Love's  sad  fears, 

Of  Love's  deathless  ambition, 

'Tis  not  because  I  love  you  less 

Than  him  whose  talk  amazes; 
There's  more  true  love  in  one  caress 

Than  in  vain  words  and  phrases. 

Let  others  couch  their  endless  love 

In  long  and  prosy  story; 
Yet  will  this  thy  heart  so  move 

As  the  nameless  glory 

Of  that  Love  that  suffers  long 

When  no  hope  appeareth; 
Of  that  Love  that  leaps  in  song 

And  no  coolness  feareth? 


Alone— Morning.  21 


Tell  me,  girl,  what  is  this  power 

That  loses  me  my  head? 
That  moves  me  at  this  midnight  hour 

To  start  and  leave  my  bed? 

Is't  not  proof  to  you  more  sure 

Of  a  Love  most  deep, 
That  this  long  night  I  must  endure 

In  a  waking  sleep? 

And  yet  'tis  not  the  wakeful  night 
My  bursting  heart  regrets; 

But  'tis  gay  Cupid's  mournful  plight- 
That 's  why  my  spirit  frets. 

Yet  now  I'll  stop  and  wait  for  dawn 
To  bring  me  peace  again. 

After  night  there  is  a  morn— 
A  rest  from  woe  and  pain. 


1  All  hail!    This  genial  Winter  sun, 

Set  in  its  sky  of  azure, 
Sends  all  my  night  thoughts  on  the  run; 
It  is  a  morn  of  pleasure! 

2  Its  rays  stream  in  my  window  bright 

And  say  to  me  in  sorrow— 
"Arise,  disperse  the  thoughs  of  night! 
There's  joy  in  a  tomorrow!" 


22  Michigan  to  Ontario. 


MICHIGAN  TO  ONTARIO. 


Down  by  the  side  of  the  inland  sea 

I  sit  on  a  Sunday  morn; 
My  thoughts  are  roaming  wild  and  free, 

But  my  hope  is  yet  forlorn. 

I  think  of  the  times  of  long  ago 
When  happiness  was  my  lot, 

When  sadness  was  an  unknown  foe 
And  harsh  care  was  forgot. 

I  look  out  on  the  tossing  main, 

Resplendent  in  the  sun; 
My  eyes  roam  o'er  the  watery  plain, 

I  am  looking  for  someone. 

I'm  looking  for  a  maiden  lair, 

Who,  on  a  luckless  day 
My  tender  heart-strings  dared  to  tear, 

Took  ship  and  sailed  away. 

Far  out,  where  the  sea-line  meets  the  sky, 

Her  ship  I  ceased  to  see, 
And  now  'tis  vainly  that  I  try 

To  bring  it  back  to  me. 

The  fierce,  white  sun  obscures  my  sight 
And  mocks  me  when  I  stare; 

Against  my  feelings  I  must  fight, 
For  she  nor  ship  is  there. 

Far  off  by  another  shore  she  sits; 

Maybe  she's  thinking,  too; 
Perhaps,  before  her  vision  flits 

The  shapes  of  memory's  view. 


Michigan  to  Ontario.  23 

8  Perhaps,  she  also  strains  her  eye 

For  that  she  cannot  see; 
Perhaps,  her  wits  begin  to  fly; 
Perhaps,  she  thinks  of  me. 

9  Ah,  no!     I'm  too  presuming,  far; 

Another  claims  her  thought; 
Tis  his  name,  flashing  like  a  star, 
Whose  love  this  maid  has  sought. 

10  Tell  her  for  me,  ye  whispering  waves, 

Tell  her,  ye  winged  winds, 
He  loves  you,  and  the  tempest  braves, 
As  on  his  sword  he  binds. 

11  Ah,  yes!     "We  both  will  fight  for  you, 

My  little  girl,  Marie; 
Oh,  give  us  aught  to  dare  or  do, 
We'll  do  it  all  for  thee! 

12  We've  severed  many  a  friendly  vow, 

Because  of  thy  dear  self; 
But  we  are  firm  united  now 
And  not  by  fear  or  pelf. 

13  You  have  inspired  us  to  aspire, 

You've  set  the  shining  mark; 
To  you  we  humbly  string  the  lyre, 
For  you've  aroused  the  spark. 

14  That  now  again  we  boys  are  friends, 

Let  those  who  know  us  swear; 
'Tis  your  kind  face  has  made  amends, 
Our  friendship  none  can  tear. 

15  For,  when  our  thoughts  go  flying  back 

To  the  happy  days  of  yore, 
No  one  can  put  us  off  the  track 
That  leads  to  joy  once  more. 


24  Michigan  to  Ontario. 


16  Then  once  again  let  love  have  sway 

With  its  impartial  will; 
Let's  throw  all  fearful  thoughts  away, 
To  friendship  drink  our  fill. 

17  Love  whom  thou  wilt,  sweet  queen  of  earth, 

But  know  that  this  is  true, 
And  I  speak  not  in  mocking  mirth; 
We,  both  of  us,  love  you! 

18  Carry  afar,  old  Michigan, 

My  message,  sweet  and  low, 
To  her,  who  sits  in  a  distant  land, 
On  the  shores  of  Ontario! 


The  Caravels.  25 


THE  CARAVELS. 

1        Reminders  of  the  past, 

Three  hulks  are  anchored  fast 

In  the  lagoon; 
'Gainst  the  darkling  shore 
Whence  we  pull  the  oar 
They  seem  from  classic  lore 

To  have  come. 

The  moon  sends  down  its  light 
Across  the  sheltered  bight, 

Revealing  all — 
The  ancient  caravels, 
The  cozy,  wooded  dells, 
The  lapping  wave  that  swells 

Against  the  wall. 

3  As  we  scan  the  decks 
Of  these  phantom  wrecks 

With  eager  eye: 
Don't  we  seem  to  see 
That  glorious  company 
Which,  so  bold  and  free, 

Dared  to  die? 

4  Though  not  meeting  death, 
Far  from  their  native  heath, 

Still  they  dared 
The  dark  seas  to  breast, 
Nor  did  they  ever  rest 
From  their  lonesome  quest, 

111  prepared 

5  For  their  journey  blind 
Blown  by  the  cruel  wind 

That  came  from  home; 
Till  they  leapt  on  shore 
Of  San  Salvador 
And  to  God  did  pour 

Glad  welcome. 


26  The  Caravels. 


6  E'en  now  we  see  that  one 
Before  our  search  is  done, 

Along  the  deck; 
Him  whose  spirit  brave 
Brought  them  across  the  wave, 
Who  taught  them  not  to  rave 
When  all  seemed  wreck. 

7  Ah,  Columbus,  for  'tis  he 
That  now  we  seem  to  see 

Looking  grand; 
Thou  art  he  who  came 
Not  for  earthly  fame 
But  the  wilds  to  tame 

To   fairer  land! 

8  Alas!  a  hideous  cloud 
Precursor  of  a  crowd 

Hurtling  up  the  sky 
Comes  athwart  the  moon; 
Dark  now  is  the  lagoon, 
The  storm '11  be  on  us  soon, 

Let  us  fly! 

9  As  we  ply  the  oar 
Towards  the  wooded  shore, 

We  look  back, 
Three  ships  are  all  we  see; 
Where  is  that  company 
So  bold  and  gay  and  free? 

Alas !    Alack ! 

10  Twas  but  a  phantom  crew! 
They've  took  wings  and  flew 

With  the  storm, 
Back  to  their  spirit  land, 
Back  to  the  golden  strand, 
All  the  ghastly  band, 

Safe  from  harm. 

11  We  too,  take  our  feet 
Back  to  the  dusty  street 

With  its  roar; 
Leaving  the  caravels 
Rolling  on  the  swells 
Of  the  wave  that  wells 

'Gainst  the  shore, 


My  Queen.  27 


MY  QUEEN. 


1  She  sits  not  on  a  throne  of  gold 

To  rule  and  sway  mankind; 
She  has  not  hoarded  wealth  untold, 
A  fawning  court  to  bind. 

2  She  does  not  wear  the  jewels  rare, 

Bequeathed  from  every  land; 
Her  pallid  brow  knows  naught  of  care 
With  its  bewrinkling  band. 

3  She  does  not  know  the  pomp  and  show 

Of  a  gay  and  glittering  court; 
She  does  not  hear  the  mutterings  low 
That  make  the  feelings  smart. 

4  She  has  not  at  her  beck  and  call 

A  thousand  cringing  slaves; 
No  kinsmen,  swift  to  plot  her  fall 
In  secret  woods  and  caves. 

5  No  cares  of  state  perplex  her  mind 

And  rob  her  lids  of  sleep; 
For  her  no  navies  breast  the  wind 
Across  the  treacherous  deep. 

6  And  yet  my  queen's  not  less  a  queen 

Though  lacking  crown  and  gold; 
Her  eyes  alone  have  'nough  of  sheen 
To  make  the  coward  bold. 

7  By  sweet  and  gentle  words  she  rules 

All  fortunate  to  know, 
And  not  by  precepts  of  the  schools 
Laid  down  just  "so  and  so." 


28  My  Queen. 

8  And  when  she  lightly  trips  along 

In  mull  and  leghorn  hat, 
He  who'd  not  break  out  in  song, 
Must  blind  be  as  the  bat! 

9  And  when  her  blue  eyes  turn  to  mine, 

In  soft  and  pleading  gaze, 
Ah,  then !    What  joy  divine, 
What  everlasting  praise, 

10  Can  justice  do  to  thoughts  so  true 

That  leap  gay  in  my  heart! 
Alas,  that  there  are  words  so  few 
My  feelings  to  impart! 

11  Oh,  may  you  never  cease  to  reign 

Over  my  lonely  life; 
For  you  each  tingling  nerve  I'll  strain, 
For  you  is  all  my  strife ! 

12  Let  others  bow  to  queens  by  birth 

Who  rule  by  gold  and  place, 
Who  seek  dominion  o'er  the  earth 
With  their  decaying  mace. 

13  To  none  of  these  so  proud  I  yield 

One  jot  of   'legiance  vile! 
Let  me  stand  out  in  open  field 
And  not  in  a  defile ! 

14  And  there,  with  my  head  upturned 

To  blazing  sun  and  sky, 
I  shall  have  then  the  lesson  learned 
These  false  queens  to  defy. 

15  Then,  by  that  ever-shining  sun, 

Then,  by  that  azure  sky 
I  shall  plight  my  oath  to  one, 
For  her  to  do  and  die ! 


My  Queen.  29 

16  And  that  one,  sweet  girl,  then  know 

Is  no  one  less  than  you; 
Methinks  I  see  you  coming  slow 
Under  the  sky  so  blue. 

17  And  now  humbly  at  your  feet  I  kneel, 

My  love  for  you— how  keen! 
Oh  heed  this  heart  of  heart's  appeal, 
My  lovely,  radiant  queen. 

18  Bid  me  arise,  a  valiant  knight 

To  do  your  service  grand; 
Fill  me  with  spirit  for  the  fight 
As  on  my  feet  I  stand! 

19  And  then  I'll  do  a  curious  thing 

Thout  fear  or  false  alarms; 
My  sword  and  shield  away  I'll  fling 
And  clasp  you  in  my  arms! 

20  And  thus  my  lovely  queen  and  I 

Will  win  the  fights  of  life, 
And  thus  the  devil's  wiles  defy— 
Be  conquerers  in  the  strife! 

21  And  yet  to  me  you'll  ever  be 

The  queen  of  my  desire; 
My  soul  will  mount  aloft  as  free— 
Indeed  it  will  mount  higher. 


30  Hope  in  Despair. 


HOPE  IN  DESPAIR. 


1  Plunged  am  I  in  blackest  woe, 
Darkness  everywhere  I  go, 

Murkiness  profound; 
Not  a  ray  of  heavenly  light 
To  disperse  this  hideous  night 

Gathering  round. 

2  Groping  blindly  on  and  on, 
Hope  and  courage  almost  gone, 

Joy  disturbed; 

Gone  the  sprightliness  of  mirth, 
Peace  no  longer  on  the  earth 

For  me  perturbed. 

3  Perish  all  my  noblest  aims 
Together  with  the  lesser  fames 

Of  the  crowd! 

No  more  I  seek  the  laurel  wreath, 
For  me  the  only  joy  is  death, 

My  spirit 's  cowed ! 

4  Tell  me,  philosopher  so  cool 
Why  you  deem  that  man  a  fool 

Who  stakes  his  all 
On  the  cards  that  speak  of  love, 
Love  that  comes  from  Heaven  above, 

To  retrieve  his  fall? 

5  Ah,  no!     They  are  not  fools 
To  disregard  the  gab  of  schools 

And  plunge  in; 
Far  better  to  have  dared 
Than  that  thy  life  be  spared 

For  endless  sin. 


Hope  in  Despair.  31 


6  Yet,  since  I  saw  thee  last 
Three  whole  days  have  passed 

Of  dreary  rain. 
In  sooth,  it  seems  to  me, 
God's  sympathy  to  be 

With  my  pain. 

7  As  these  days  were  dark  and  drear, 
Bedewed  with  Heaven's  tear, 

So  profuse; 

That  thus  my  hours  have  been 
Since  you  I  last  have  seen, 

Swear  my  muse! 

8  Yet  the  sky '11  not  ever  weep, 
Mankind  in  woe  to  steep, 

There  is  a  morn; 
And,  in  the  radiant  dawn 
Joy  leaps  up  like  a  fawn, 

Love  is  born! 

9  Oh,  dispel  this  awful  gloom ! 
Give  my  tethered  spirit  room, 

Sweet  Marie! 

Shine  on  my  clouded  heart 
Thy  glorious  love  impart 

To  poor  me! 

10  Then  my  spirit  will  arise 
When  I  gaze  upon  thine  eyes 

Speaking  love; 

Then  naught  shall  curb  my  power, 
Then  no  dark  skies  shall  lower 

From  above; 

11  Then,  aided  by  thy  might, 
I  will  win  a  future  bright 

For  us  both; 

Men  will  speak  our  names  with  praise, 
This  earth  know  grander  days 

For  our  worth' 


32  Love  and  Law. 


LOVE  AND  LAW. 

"'Tis  not  to  be," 
She  said  to  me, 

And  quoted  me  the  law; 
"What's  law  to  me? 
Love  should  be  free; 

I  do  not  care  a  straw." 

"I  love  you  true," 
She  said  to  me, 

And  gazed  at  me  so  sweetly; 
' '  Oh,  then,  why  wait ; 
Oh,  why  be  late 

To  yield  to  me  completely?" 

"By  a  rope  I 'in  bound 
Completely  round; 

The  minister  did  tie  it." 
"Two  tied  in  one 
Can  be  undone, 

You've  only  now  to  try  it." 

Life's  meant  for  love, 
Best  treasure-trove 

For  us  poor  stumbling  mortals; 
Why  wear  the  chains? 
Law,  Love  disdains, 

And  pushes  through  the  portals 

To  a  life  of  joy 
Without  alloy 

It  leads  in  reckless  measure; 
Why  close  your  eye, 
When  you  can  buy 

The  best  and  highest  pleasure? 


Love  and  Law.  33 


Speak  out  your  soul, 
Mark  out  your  goal, 

And  run  your  race  with  spirit; 
Come,  cut  your  thongs, 
Life  to  love  belongs, 

And  so,  why  need  you  fear  it? 

Come,  come  to  me, 
And  then  you'll  see 

That  life  is  all  for  lovers 
So  live  and  love 
That  Heaven  above 

It's  true  ideal  discovers. 

And  in  my  arms, 
Away  from  harms 

You'll  find  true  love  eternal; 
And  in  our  Kiss, 
And  in  our  bliss, 

Our  joy  will  be  supernal! 


34  Lines  to  a  Lassie  from  Ayr 

LINES  TO  A  LASSIE  FROM  AYR  ON  PRESENTING 
HER  WITH    A  COPY  OF  BURNS'  POEMS, 

The  Past  is  dark  with  thoughts  of  gloom, 

I  will  not  look  upon  it; 
To  restrospect  would  spell  my  doom, 

And  spoil  this  little  sonnet. 

My  life  is  full  of  thoughts  of  joy 

Of  every  kind  and  nature; 
Which  now  all  gloomy  thoughts  destroy— 

I've  found  a  lovely  creature, 

Who  rouses  hope  and  love  and  life 

Through  all  my  wakened  being; 
Who  spurs  me  keener  for  the  strife, 

My  fettered  spirit  freeing. 

And  you,  dear  Helen,  are  the  one 

Who's  giving  me  this  pleasure; 
Never  more  I'll  be  alone, 

Nor  wanting  love's  full  measure. 

You've  come  to  shine  upon  my  heart, 

And  make  it  warm  and  tender; 
For  you  I'll  try  to  do  my  part 

In  being  your  defender. 

Not  that  you  need  defense,  my  dear 

For  aught  you've  undertaken; 
'Tis  only  to  dismiss  all  fear 

You'll  ever  be  forsaken 

By  one  who  in  his  deepest  soul 

Has  learned  in  truth  to  love  you 
Who's  set  you  as  his  shining  goal, 

For  there  are  none  above  you. 

And  now  from  me  accept  this  book 

Of  Bobby  Burns'  verses, 
And  pray,  dear,  do  not  overlook 

His  love-thoughts  or  his  curses, 

But  when  you  read  them,  one  and  all, 

And  on  them  ponder  duly, 
Remember  me  whose  soul's  in  thrall 

The  one  who  loves  you  truly. 


To  My  New  Found  Friend— Norma.  35 

TO  MY  NEW  FOUND  FRIEND— NORMA. 

L        Lovers  may  tell  the  old,  old  tales 
Of  that  which  fills  their  hearts, 
Lovers  may  plight  the  old,  old  vows, 
Cupid  may  shoot  his  darts 

I        Piercing  these  hearts  of  woman  and  man 

Causing  the  utmost  pain 
Making  the  wounds  that  never  heal, 
That  leave  an  indelible  stain. 

!        A  stain  that  ever  lingering,  stays 
Until  the  two  are  made  one 
Not  even  the  bond  that  ties  them  secure 
Not  even  the  radiant  sun 

t        Is  able  to  rid  their  life  of  the  blot 

Put  there  by  the  all  jealous  Boy 
He  laughs  long  and  loud  as  he  hides  and  he  looks, 
For  he  who  makes  can  destroy. 

)        Oh  no,  as  for  me,  away  with  this  pest! 

Away  with  his  arrows  that  sting ! 
Away  with  the  havoc  and  wreck  of  his  course! 
Away  with  the  sorrows  they  bring! 

i        For,  looking  above  this  travail  and  woe, 

This  scene  of  love  and  despair, 
My  eyes  rest  upon  a  beautiful  sight— 
A  maiden  exquisite  and  fair. 

No  love  vows  to  her,  so  strong  do  I  pour 

No  hopes  does  she  hold  out  to  me 
And  yet  in  her  eyes  so  honest  and  blue 

As  the  blue  of  the  great  wide  sea— 

I        I  read  the  message,  for  which  my  heart  yearns, 

The  message  of  friendship  and  life 
It  comes  to  me  almost  broken  in  grief 
And  all  worn  out  with  the  strife, 

>        And  says,  I  think,  if  I  read  it  aright 

"Do  not  break,  do  not  bend 
You  have  found,  sir,  in  the  midst  of  your  night 
The  best  gift  of  God— A  true  friend!" 


36  Prospect. 


LINES  SUGGESTED  BY  A  PAUSE  AT  THE  STATUE 

OF  WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE,  IN 

LINCOLN  PARK. 

1  To  thee,  who  sits  enthroned  in  majesty 
Of  bronze 

Here  in  the  western  world, 
Far  from  thy  haunts  of  birth 
And  plenteous  life, 
Thine  eyes  turned  toward  thy 
Former  home,  we  bring 
Our  wreaths  and  homage. 

2  On  this  beauteous  day 

Aglow  with  spring's  new  light, 
A-quiver  with  the  bursting 
Buds  and  blades,  we  of  the 
Sordid  west,  pause  at  thy 
Figured  shape,  and  bow  in 
Reverence  to  thy  royal  mind, 
Illumining  for  all  men  since 
Thy  earthly  death,  the  firmament; 
To  thee,  and  to  thee  alone  we 
Kneel,  Oh  Shakespeare! 

April  23,  1911. 

PROSPECT. 

1  On  yester-eve  thy  thoughts  turned  back 

To  the  day  of  days  for  thee 
When  thou  and  thy  first  love  joined  hands 
Under  the  nuptial  tree. 

2  Then  all  was  bright  and  all  was  fair 

The  future  outlook  grand 
It  was  then  that  thou  wast  indeed 
The  happiest  in  the  land! 

3  The  youth  around  so  glad  and  gay 

Who  helped  to  see  you  wed ; 
Of  these  today  some  still  are  left 
And  some  are  with  the  dead. 


Prospect.  37 

4  And  him  who  stood  so  fine  and  strong 

And  gave  his  vows  so  true 
He  too  has  gone  the  lonesome  road 
Without  his  girls  and  you. 

5  Tis  right  that  on  this  wedding  day 

You  turn  your  thoughts  back  home 
And  think  so  deeply  of  the  past 
And  brush  away  life's  foam. 

6  But  now,  my  dear,  the  day  has  gone, 

Another  day  is  here 
Another  one  now  claims  your  thought, 
The  dawn  is  bright  and  clear. 

7  He  comes  to  you  and  clasps  your  hand 

And  looks  into  your  eye. 
He  whispers  words  of  love  and  hope, 
The  words  that  never  die. 

8  He  tells  you  not  to  weep  nor  mourn 

Nor  think  more  of  the  past, 
But  only  of  the  time  to  come 
Ah,  yes,  the  die  is  cast! 

9  No  longer  can  we  fight  our  fate, 

It's  fixed  it  seems,  though  slow, 
That  on  some  future  glorious  day 
When  whispering  breezes  blow, 

10  We  too,  may  stand  beneath  the  tree 

That  makes  for  love  and  life 
And  there  to  plight  eternal  vows 
To  live  as  man  and  wife; 

11  To  live  not  selfishly  for  self 

But  each  for  the  other's  joy, 
And  the  sun  will  shine  and  the  world  will  laugh 
At  our  happiness  without  alloy. 

12  Tonight  it's  you  who  comes  to  me 

Through  spaces  far  between 
And  fills  me  with  these  happy  thoughts 
My  own,  my  life's  real  queen! 


38  To  the  One  Who  Became  My  Wife. 


TO  THE  ONE  WHO  BECAME  MY  WIFE. 


1  To  you  tonight  my  feelings  turn 

The  chosen  one  of  all; 
For  you  alone  my  heart  doth  burn, 
For  you  my  senses  call. 

2  To  hold  you  closely  in  my  arms, 

That  is  my  heart's  desire; 
To  gaze  upon  your  many  charms. 
And  kindle  passion's  fire. 

3  And  yet  'tis  not  base  passion's  power 

That  draws  me  near  to  thee; 
Tis  not  the  feeling  of  an  hour, 
But  of  eternity! 

4  The  love  that  knits  our  souls  in  one 

Knows  neither  time  nor  space, 
Dan  Cupid  no  one  can  out  run 
In  such  an  honest  race! 

5          Together  we  will  climb  the  hill, 

The  heights  of  peace  and  love- 
Yes,  we'll  not  pause  until 
The  One  who  is  above 

6  Shall  say  to  us  at  even-time: 

"Well  done  my  faithful  pair." 
Oh !     This  were  happiness  sublime 
Without  a  trace  of  care! 

7  That  day  will  come  for  you  and  me, 

If  we  deserve  its  joy, 
Oh,  may  our  actions  ne'er  so  be 
It's  advent  to  destroy! 


Doubt.  39 


DOUBT. 


1  In  thy  brown  eyes  gazing 
Is  born  a  love  amazing, 

Most  intense; 

So  that  my  thought  goes  ranging 
Never  fickle,  never  changing, 

(No  offense?) 

2  To  a  sweet  and  gentle  maiden 
With  precious  bounties  laden 

Of  face  and  form; 
Will  she  spurn  my  loving  verses 
And  meet  my  praise  with  curses 

In  a  storm? 

3  Nay,  do  not  treat  me  coolly 
Do  not  be  unduly 

Vexed  and  mad! 
How  can  you  so  deny  me? 
Will  you  still  defy  me, 

Me,  so  sad? 

4  Sad  for  just  a  token 
Of  esteem  unbroken 

From  your  heart; 
Sad  for  your  glance  of  kindness, 
To  relieve  the  awful  blindness, 

Of  my  part! 

5  For  I  fear  to  play  the  lover 
And  later  to  discover 

Another  one  supreme; 
On  account  of  this  I  ask  you 
Tis  for  this  I  task  you 

With  this  theme. 


40  Who  and  What  Is  She? 

6  Tis  too  true,  your  beauty 
Has  lost  for  me  my  duty 

To  do  right; 
I  think  not  of  the  sorrow 
Of  a  dim  far-off  tomorrow 

In  your  sight. 

7  I  think  you  will  not  spurn  me 
And  swift  and  quickly  turn  me 

From  my  course; 
At  least  a  hearing  grant  me, 
E'er  others  swift  supplant  me 

By  love's  force. 

8  Till  then  my  heart  is  beating 
For  the  joyous,  gladsome  meeting 

Of  us  twain 

Till  then  I  will  be  fearing 
The  fateful  answer  nearing 

With  its  joy  or  pain! 


WHO  AND  WHAT  IS  SHE? 

Pinker  far  than  pink  June  roses 
That  a  summer  sun  discloses 

To  our  view, 

Are  her  cheeks  of  alabaster, 
Where  the  color  rushes  faster 
Than  a  truant  from  his  master 

In  a  stew! 

Bluer  than  the  vault  of  Heaven 
On  a  shining  day  at  eleven, 

Are  her  eyes; 

Whiter  than  the  pearls  of  ocean 
Are  the  teeth  which  claim  devotion 
Almost  glowing  with  emotion 

Without  guise. 


Who  and  What  Is  Shef  41 

Fairer  far  than  Grecian  maiden 
With  languorous  incense  laden, 

Is  her  form. 

Bright  as  molten  gold  her  tresses 
Which  the  glorious  Sun-God  blesses, 
Or  the  playful  wind  caresses 

In  a  storm. 

Yet,    'tis  neither  forms  nor  faces 
With  their  thousand  witching  graces, 

That  men  love; 
Tis  the  pure  and  gentle  spirit 
That  all  the  good  inherit 
That  wins  the  lasting  merit 

From  above. 

And  that  she  is  so  gifted 
That  her  beauteous  life  is  lifted 

'Bove  the  crowd, 
Tell  my  muse,  in  wondrous  story; 
Tell  of  her  radiant  glory, 
Tell,  till  thy  hair  is  hoary, 

Be  not  cowed. 

Tell  of  her  generous  nature 
How  she  loveth  every  creature 

That  is  born; 

How  her  happy  wiles  and  graces 
Have  wreathed  in  smiles  our  faces, 
Have  made  naught  of  serious  cases, 

Of  hopes  forlorn. 

Tell  of  it  all  at  leisure 
Or  tell  in  hasty  measure, 

Tis  the  same; 

What  cares  her  truest  lover 
So  long  as  love  can  move  her 
To  write  in  skies  above  her 

His  dear  name. 

For  her  he  runs  life's  races, 
For  her  he'll  win  chief  places 

In  the  strife. 

'Tis  hers  the  soul  that  guides  him 
So  that  whate'er  betides  him 
Always  his  time  he  bides  him 

To  know  life, 


42  The  Kiss. 


THE  KISS. 


It  was  your  lips  of  red 
A'  quiver  with  emotion 
That  lost  for  me  my  head 
And  gave  you  my  devotion. 

It  was  your  willing  eye 

That  made  me  seize  your  hand, 

And  timidity  defy 

So  I  could  near  you  stand. 

And  as  I  bent  my  head 

And  brought  yours  close  to  mine, 

All  hesitation  fled— 

You  were  to  me  like  wine, 

Which,  sparkling  in  the  light, 
Arrests  my  sober  thought, 
And  makes  my  senses  fight 
As  never  they  have  fought. 

And  as  your  warming  breath 
Came  mingling  with  my  own 
I  cared  no  more  for  Death — 
No  more  was  I  alone. 

And  as  our  lips  did  meet 
In  one  long  loving  kiss, 
What  joy  is  more  complete— 
What  is  a  greater  bliss? 

For  a  moment  was  I  dead, 
Dead  to  all  but  you; 
Then  all  my  senses  fled, 
Only  my  heart  beat  true. 


Death.  43 


And  when  we  kissed  once  more 
And  many  many  a  time, 
Joy  filled  me  o'er  and  o'er 
And  Happiness  sublime. 

Your  Kisses  were  the  draught 
That  set  my  Soul  on  fire; 
Their  liquor  that  I  quaffed 
These  verses  did  inspire. 

Oh,  may  they  come  to  me 
To  cheer  my  lonely  life 
Again,  as  warm  and  free; 
With  them  I  '11  win  the  strife ! 


DEATH. 


The  end  of  heart-beats,  the  stoppage  of  the  breath, 

The  fading  out  of  sight  and  taste  and  sound, 

The  sinking  of  the  mind  into  unconsciousness, 

A  prelude  to  eternal  sleep— 

This  is  universal  death. 

Shall  we  again  awaken  on  a  distant  morn, 

A  long  drawn-out  existence  to  pursue 

In  endless  aeons  of  the  maze  of  time, 

Renewing  the  struggle  for  excellence, 

Eternally  with  all  the  countless  dead, 

Enthroning  Ambition  beyond  the  grave, 

Which  often  marred  our  earthly  life: 

Or,  falling  to  the  deadening  plane 

Of  an  unwieldy  Socialistic  State, 

Where  the  greatest  dares  not  outstrip  the  least, 

Where  not  even  Man  is  ruler,  but  where  the  mass 

Lives,  moves,  acts,  and  rules  in  sickening  unison, 

Neither  by  Man  nor  by  the  People  ruled 

Our  lives  to  be  the  same? 


44  Death. 

Or  shall  we  rather  sink  to  final  sleep, 

As  reckless  and  uncaring  for  the  act 

As  when  at  night  we  lay  our  weary  frame 

Upon  a  downy  bed  and  glide  away 

To  that  dark  and  sweet  oblivion. 

Which  was  our  natal  heritage, 

And  which  encompassed  us  when  we  were  not, 

For  countless  periods  before  our  birth? 

Having  run  with  honor  our  life's  full  course, 

Let  us  have  eternal  rest. 

Of  what  use,  then,  is  life  to  me, 

A  small  and  minute  speck  of  time, 

Snatched  from  the  womb  of  Eternity? 

Work  half -finished,  burdens  and  sorrows  borne— 

For  these  is  there  no  recompense? 

Kind  deeds  bring  their  own  rewards; 

Sorrows  have  their  counterpart  of  joys; 

Work,  half-done,  is  finished  by  Posterity. 

Ah!    That's  the  stimulus  for  life, 

That,  each  day,  we  strive  our  utmost  here  on  earth, 

Both  draining  for  ourselves  the  cup  of  Joy, 

And  building  for  those  to  come  an  edifice 

That  neither  Time  nor  Change  can  crumble  nor  dissolve, 

But  which  shall  stand,  a  shining  beacon-light 

To  countless  coming  ages  and  hordes  of  men. 

Knowing  we  have  thus  well  and  fully  wrought, 

When  Time  strikes  with  solemn  tone  the  final  stroke, 

We  can  then  drowse  away  into  Eternity, 

Glad  of  endless  sleep. 

January  30,  1909. 


Present  and  Future.  4o 


PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to? 

Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  ? 

When  to  drink  or  have  drink  is  a  crime! 

When  to  drink  soft  drinks  is  sublime! 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 

Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  ? 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 

Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  ? 

When  some  said  Man  was  Divine, 

We  were  fighting  Beasts  from  the  Rhine ; 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 

Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  ? 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 

Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  ? 

It  remains  for  the  clergy  to  tell 

If  we  are  all  going  to  h 1, 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 
Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  1 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 
Oh,  where  are  we  going  to? 
Man  is  just  as  ready  to  fight 
As  when  he  first  saw  the  light, 
Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 
Oh,  where  are  we  going  to  1 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to? 
Oh,  where  are  we  going  to? 

I'm  sure  I  don't  care  a  d n  bit 

So  long  as  I  make  myself  fit, 
Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 
Oh,  where  are  we  going  to? 

Oh,  what  are  we  coming  to  ? 
Oh,  where  are  we  going  to? 
So  long  as  we  look  for  the  Light, 
So  long  as  we  fight  for  the  Right, 
Who  cares  what  we  are  coming  to? 
Who  cares  where  we  are  going  to? 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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